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I was used and abused by my next door neighbor's teenage son for two years, from age 4 till age 6. I was friends with his little sister and him and he gained my trust after my mom and I moved into the house. The first time it happened we were in the living room and he got my Simpsons sheet from my room and we went under the sheet and he unvelcroed his board shorts and took his penis out and put my head on it, telling me to pretend it was a bottle, it was frequent between oral and anal and I didn't understand how bad it was, my mom caught it finally and it stopped. My mom was going to press charges but his dad was a former police officer and my decided to not go through with it. As a child afterwards I moved forward, in my teens and adult years, I'm 36 almost 37, relationships have been difficult. I'm have not been intimate with any woman.

This guy was my best friend. He knew everything I was dealing with. He was the reason I got out of the abusive place I was in. Less than 2 weeks after I got out of that abusive place, he raped me when I needed a safe place to stay. I had trusted him so much with absolutely everything and he not only violated me, but my trust aswell. He then text me the day after telling me not to tell anyone what happened. But I didn't remember anything about what happened until 5 days after it happened. He denied and denied and denied when I confronted him until eventually he admitted to what he did. Its been numberyears and I still can't walk around my hometown alone anymore out of fear, I can't hear his name or see anything remotely near to what he was wearing or I was wearing. But I'm in therapy now and it's making me realise so much. I'm working on trusting the world again. I didn't deserve it. No one does. As difficult and painful it is to deal with something like this, we can all survive. We can get through it. Someone wants to listen to your story. Someone wants to help. Don't deal with it alone xx

I never realised I had to be wary of women, because I never expected one could take advantage of me. I had lots to drink and simply thought I had made a new friend. I was so drunk that I just went along with everything she suggested, even though I kept saying I had no interest in women. I still doubt myself and blame myself. I thought I was safe and never in my life expected a woman would sexually assault me. I feel nobody understands.

He kept making me feel uncomfortable by uttering cat calls and complimenting me way too much, so I locked myself in my room for most of the past winter and some of this Spring. He would tell me to relax when I didn't accept his sexual advances.. I gave in because he wouldn't STOPPPP! I'm glad he moved out and pray only good people step in from now on...

I didn't realise I had experienced Sexual violence until I was in a women's refuge. It was when they were going through my experiences and fully explained the sexual abuse that I realised. I was often coerced into sex and one time after a night out I woke up to him on top of me, I was frozen and couldn't move. This was my husband, I trusted him.

Hello, My name is Survivor I am disabled I am also diagnosed with chronic medical conditions and mental health disabilities as well I am 25 years old I am from Hometown and I am a survivor of Rape, I am a survivor of sexual assaults and I am also a survivor of Domestic Violence as well I am a full time student in college I am a student at College as well as College 2, College 3, College 4 and lastly College 5 I am a proud performing arts major I do music, dance, theatre, recording arts and songwriting Here’s my story The first sexual assault I went through was when I was 12 years old and my first ever boyfriend I had at the time Raped me he was 14 years old at the time The second sexual assault that happened to me was when I was on the bus the bus driver was a man it was myself and a older boy I was 16 years old and he was 22 years old The guy kept making so many remarks too me He kept saying that I was hot and that he wanted me and then he told me that he wanted to grab me and grab my boobs I told him no he asked again and I told him no again and I explained to him that I was not going to give him no consent I didn’t want anyone grabbing my boobs He ended up coming to my seat and he grabbed me so hard and he grabbed me by my boobs so hard that I was in pain I was in tears The bus driver had gotten off the bus the driver allowed it to happen I felt so ashamed after it happened I was afraid to tell anyone of what happened The third time I was sexually assaulted was by my boyfriend at the time he was starting to mistreat me and he decided to pin me against the wall and he said he wanted to try new things on me he said he didn’t want to do anymore hugging and he said he wanted to mess with my vagina and I told him No I told him I don’t want that to happen and he don’t have my consent and no permission to do so He decided to pin me to the wall and he messed with my vagina and he was literally hurting me so bad he had his fingers inside and I couldn’t even move cause the pain was bad I was so scared to tell my school counselor and teacher I was too scared and afraid to tell anyone The fourth time was the worst moment my boyfriend at the time threatened me to do oral sex with him and I told him no I will never do that he forcefully put my mouth around his penis and when I tried to move my head he kept trying to keep my head on it and when I was finally able to break away from the grip he hit me I went to a different area and my male friend and his good friend he ended up grabbing me after I told him no It was very very hard and difficult experience for me it was very very traumatizing for me Today is one of the biggest milestones I have going on It has been officially 9 years since I have left my then boyfriend My boyfriend I had was very abusive towards not only was he sexually assaulting me he was also physically abusive towards me He used to literally beat me he would always punch me in my stomach it was times when he would punch me in my stomach so hard I literally just wanted to cry He used to hit me on my shoulder he used to push me around me It was times he would drag me around he did so by grabbing my wrist Other times he would hit me on my neck He used to be very controlling he told my friends not to talk to me and not to interact with me He didn’t want me to talk to other guys he didn’t want any guys interacting with me He tried to find ways to monitor my Facebook and my other social media networks He was possessive over me at times too I tried to leave the relationship the first time and it was so hard to leave he ended up sexually assaulting me and then he hit me He was mistreating me so much He used to call me rude names too The second year of the relationship was the worst time After time went by I was able to get out of the relationship I was so terrified to tell anyone that I was in a relationship that contained both sexual assaults and domestic violence I was scared to find out what would have happened to me and I was scared of what would have happened to my mother A friend of mine helped me get out of the relationship with my boyfriend I get counseling and I am in the process of getting involved with support groups for young women who are survivors of both sexual assault and domestic violence I feel so much better knowing that I am able to get support and help I wish I knew all the warning signs at the time when I was dating him It ended up being a good relationship in the beginning and then it became a unhealthy relationship full of abuse I am very thankful I was able to get out I am thankful that I didn’t lose my life I am very thankful I survived

Hi, I was just wondering if this fits the criteria of sexual assault to an extent or just non-verbal communication in this situation. I went to a gay cruising spot out of curiosity and I did end up doing some stuff there. The first guy it was fine, nothing really went wrong, I said no when I didn't want something and everything went fine. The second guy was a bit iffy since I saw him do something naughty and I was curious, and admittedly wanted to check on him. When I approached him, he was touching himself (sorry) and when he saw me, he touched my junk as I approached. I did partially have an issue with him not saying anything about wanting to touch my junk, but I did still approach and asked him I wanted to touch his and he said yes. A part of me wanted to say no or say something regarding it, but I felt like something should have been said, but a partial bit of me (not 100% on this feeling) wanted to see where it goes. I'm After a short bit, took a short break, and continued. He did touch my butt but I said no and he did back off. I also touched his butt back but he said nothing regarding it. We continued with ourselves and then shortly again, I allowed him to touch me (not verbally, but by showing him which this is non-verbal consent right?) and he did the same (sorry again). After finishing and I did tell him "thank you", but I did feel somewhat guilty for letting myself to get to that position and was wondering why I felt so iffy about it. I wasn't forced to do it, I approached on my own volition Maybe because I didn't want this to be my first same sex experience. I'm super sorry for the tmi, but I was wondering if this means anything?

He was 53. I was 20. He was my professor, an ex-cop. I didn’t trust him at first. But he worked hard to open me up. He noticed the cracks, the places I was already vulnerable, and pressed on them. I was away from home, dealing with multiple tragedies, withdrawn, guarded, and craving someone who might actually listen. He positioned himself as that person, the one who understood me when no one else did. At first, it didn’t look like abuse. It looked like attention. Being called on in class, asked to stay afterward, seeing me and my wounds, and being told I had potential. It was meticulous. Slowly, the attention became personal. He asked questions no professor should. He touched me without consent - digging his thumb into my collarbone, grabbing my neck, kicking my butt, brushing up against me, physically blocking me. He commented on my body and my clothes. He admitted he had feelings he “couldn’t say or act on.” He went out of his way to prove he could be trusted. He framed my hesitation as a lack of trust and made me feel guilty when I pulled away. He isolated me. He criticized my boyfriend, planted wedges in my relationships. He gave me a simple object he had worn himself, framing it as a reminder “to be himself.” I thought of it that way too, but it became clear it was more like a collar, a way to own me. He noticed when I didn’t wear it. He told me about his dead ex and compared me to her, as if I was supposed to fill her place. He said he thought about me often. He bragged about meeting women in their early twenties at bars - the same age I was. He suggested I should come to his house so I could “feel safe.” He even admitted he kept a list of things written down about me. I saw him as a mentor, sometimes even a father figure. But he refused that. Instead, he tried to reframe the relationship, grooming me to see him in a way that served his desires. There were nights after class when it was just us. He wanted me to walk him to his car. Looking back, I believe that if my friend hadn’t shown up on a few of those nights, something worse would have happened. His eye contact was suffocating, unblinking, sharp, and intimidating. He looked at me in ways that pinned me down, made me freeze - ways that made me feel both seen and trapped. He presented himself as invincible, even bragging he could make himself out to be a “scary person.” On a video call, I’m almost certain he was trying to push me toward doing things. That’s when he asked if I had ever been sexually assaulted before, using it like leverage. He revealed his preferences, and made it clear he didn’t like when women told others about their relationship. When I confronted him once, he said people always painted him as the “villain.” He said it like he was the one who had been wronged. And even then, I felt guilty, like I had hurt him. That’s how strong his hold was. For a year and a half, I stayed in that cycle - sick around him but convinced he was the only one who understood me. The cracks in his mask eventually showed, and his grip loosened when I started calling him out and speaking the truth he worked so hard to bury. I finally ran. I was so drained, stripped of myself, that I couldn’t survive another round of his wicked game. I reported him more than once. The first time, nothing was done. Later, even after he lost his job for unrelated reasons, he tried to pull me back in - even asking me to be a reference for jobs working with children. I reported him again because I feared he would keep targeting students. That time, he was trespassed, but it still didn’t feel like it ended. I still fear I'll run into him. I carried guilt. Shame. Silence. I didn’t tell my anyone for a long time. I thought silence would erase it. Instead, it gave the abuse more room inside me. And I still ask: What was this? Was it sexual assault, even if it never looked “obvious” enough? Was it my fault? Is it all in my head? Is this valid since wasn't underage? Was any of it real? I’m still learning how to feel safe. How to exist in my body without flinching. How to wear clothes without wondering if fabric is an invitation. How to hold eye contact without feeling exposed. How to believe attention doesn’t always come with a price. How to let silence feel peaceful instead of dangerous. How to stop scanning every room for the nearest exit. How to trust my gut. And how to never let someone treat me like that again. I’m still learning how to live in a world altered by his eyes, his hands, his words, and to believe I am not forever marked by them, or by men like him.

He was my boyfriend. We had just had sex and he wanted to go again. I said “no”, he said “but I want to”, and he did. Those words ring in my mind so clearly. It wasn’t violent or aggressive, but it felt like something broke in me then. I carried that with me for a long time, and still do. Part of my shame was that I didn’t leave. Months later, I confronted him about it and he was so angry and not open to hearing me. That is not how someone who loves you, cares for you, or respects you acts. That is not how someone who respects women acts. It took me a long time to see that. Years later, I am seeing someone who is kind and safe. He doesn’t know this story but he cares for me and wants me to feel safe regardless. He has never been angry or upset when I didn’t want to have sex, if I wanted to stop or pause or talk about it or if there was something I didn’t like or wasn’t comfortable with. He listens when I explain a boundary and is always open to changing his behaviour to make me feel as comfortable and safe as possible. That is someone who cares, who inherently respects other people and wants to be a safe space. That is normal and the bare minimum. Abusers, perpetrators, and predators can warp your sense of reality but I promise you, people who are kind and good exist and there are so many more than you would think. You deserve to be treated with respect, kindness, and gentleness. That is never too much to ask for, that is the bare minimum.

As a child i suffered sexual abuse by the neighbor next door. Also through school was bullied , teased , . My Parents were christians . But both were controling of my decisions . It was very difficult growing up as a child , teen and then youth. I eventualy had the confidence to leave home and live on my own .

So it’s been 20 years and I’m still having issues. I am a MST survivor, and I’ve only recent not called myself a victim. I have been able to hide my issues with my trauma, but I got through times where I go numb. I had other trauma at the time that triggered my ptsd, but I wasn’t in an emotionally safe environment and my trauma wasn’t as important as the other trauma that was going on. I wasn’t the one that needed the support, so I suffered in silence as my symptoms got worse. As my symptoms got worse I pushed everyone away. When I talk to my husband about it he’s co loses to tell me I need to get over it I can’t change it. He will tell me that my trauma shouldn’t get pushed onto him because he didn’t do it. I know that is true, but I can’t help what triggers me. So fast forward to now, I am still not receiving the support I need from him, I know his way of healing me is to push for me to accept it, but I just need an ear to listen. He tries but it’s not the way I need. And he believes that after 20 years I should have no triggers, but I don’t know what triggers it anymore. So my story is this. I was 19 years old in the army. I was a new mom, a single mom, to a premie and she just got out of the hospital a few weeks prior. I had a roommate, and she didn’t have a key to the apartment so the door was open waiting for her to come home. I was in my room with my daughter sleeping and the next thing I know he was there. He choked me until I passed out. I came to and he was raping me. Then when he was bored with that, he tried to force me to do oral on him and I bit down and he started hitting me and kept going. I was focused on my daughter, I didn’t want him to hurt her. I tried fighting back but it didn’t work. He finally was finished tormenting me and left before my roommate got home. I remember the exact song that was playing, the smell of the candle, it was snowing, it was cold, but I can’t remember his last name. I sometimes think Name was not his first name. I remembered everyone’s name I worked with, but his is not coming through anymore. After he left I locked my door and held my daughter all weekend. I didn’t come out of my room, I had everything I needed for my baby in my room so I didn’t have to leave. Monday came and I had to use so much makeup to cover up the hand marks and the bruises, the black eye, the busted lip, it was hard to hide it all. I was walking into work and my NCO saw me and saw my neck and said what did I do. I told her and she told me I couldn’t tell anyone that, no one would believe me because I was a single mom, a female that was obviously not smart since I was so young and had a baby by a guy no one knew and I wanted to keep it that way because it was no one’s business. So after she rejected me I went to my first sergeant. She basically told me the same thing. She added that he was a respected NCO, no one would ever believe me, I was someone who had a baby, was unmarried, was a junior enlisted, hung out with the wrong people, and so on. After that I just let it be, decided that it would not help to continue to tell anyone. When people asked my happened to me, I just told them I had a hell of a weekend. I turned to alcohol and drugs afterwards. I would go partying in excess regardless of how much I worked. I was drinking and using drugs to the point I knew my daughter would be safer with my mom until I could get back state side. I did get a little promiscuous, but I mainly just partied until I couldn’t remember. Side note, this is something my husband doesn’t understand and adds how he would have handled it. I did get pregnant in December of that same year, I did marry him and he was my safe place for a little while. I went back home and had my child and realized I wouldn’t be able to deal with my trauma with two babies, so I learned how to push it out of the way. I went back into the military to get deployed, i needed to earn money for my babies since I was getting divorced. I pushed him so far away and I know it was my fault it ended. Well I went to Iraq and met my current husband. He is the first person that I told everything I could pull out of that box in my head. At that time he seemed to understand that I was broken and damaged goods. He listened and understand why I couldn’t be the same person I was before my trauma. Over the years he has seen issues with how I am and doesn’t understand that I don’t know what triggers my issues, he just says get over it, you can’t change it, you need to find something that gets your mind off of that. He gets mad because being intimate comes and goes, but I can’t help it, I don’t really understand my triggers, especially since I and all alone now, my husband works out of the state, all of my kids are grown, so I am literally alone with my thoughts. I know I am not learning how to heal, but I am neglecting him and not caring about him, which is far from the truth. I went through something with one of kids that triggered a very long time of being numb and not caring about much. I decided to get help because I was being triggered by things that I didn’t know or see for years and my husband had had enough and convinced me it was time to get over it. So I started this program for MST survivors and I was doing so good, but then something triggered me and I don’t fully know what it was. I have back slid so much that I fear someone is coming to get me at very odd times. I have nightmares of someone choking me and beating me and then I wake up. I have panic attacks while walking a trail in a populated park. I am getting paranoid in public. I don’t sleep. I’m up for 48+ hours at a time. And when I do sleep it’s for maybe 2 hours. My husband said it’s not normal for it to be going on this long. I feel like it’s hopeless for me to not get triggered so bad out of the blue. I am a work in progress but I have went back to a dark place again and it scares me. I don’t want to go back to after it happened. I don’t want to deal with it by abusing substances I am not suicidal, I’m just in a spot whereby I’m alone in every way again. I don’t want to discourage anyone by reading this, we all deal in different ways, and sometimes there is something that throws a fork in your progress. We can’t give up or accept defeat. If I didn’t already say his name is Name, and he has damaged my life to the point I might end up losing my marriage, my safety, my happiness once again. He will not win this time, I will defeat this with the strength I have left. Thank you for letting me express my thoughts. I very much appreciate it.

I was only 6 years old when I was sexually assaulted. The first time I talked about it with anyone and said it out loud was this year. I'm now 22... that means it's been 16 years later. But I am so thankful to have the support system I do have - the support system who has been strong enough to give me the courage to finally speak up for myself ❤️

Two years ago, in my first relationship my boyfriend at that time raped me. It was my first time and I completely froze. Now, I’m happy in a new relationship but becoming intimate again is really scary. I confided what happened to me with my mom and she said that I wasn’t pure anymore. I would like to be intimate again but the shame gets in the way. I’m working on this through therapy in the hopes that I can feel safe in my body again.

I want my brother to know that I forgive him for anything that might have taken place between us. We were all victims in that horrible house and nobody was being taught the correct way to relate to their bodies and the bodies of others. I forgive you!! When I woke up from that seizure, when we were older... I think I must have had a flashback, I didn't know where I was. There was no way I could have 'dragged' myself over to that plastic cup, as mother says, because in a tonic clonic seizure, this is impossible. So I think, since you were the one that found me, you must have brought it near me, and in my delirious state, I perceived it as another assault and attacked you. I probably scared the living daylights out of you, but you have to admit, gnawing up and swallowing pieces of that cup was pretty impressive!! You have been failed CONSISTENTLY by everyone around you and I always wished I could help you. To me, we are both victims, and I weep for us both.

I am going to share my story of abuse through my victim impact statement written for the 1/9 violation on my order for protection that he was charged for. My name is NameI met Name 2 on Date. I fell in love with him easily and quickly, he paid attention to things that I struggled with or lacked and swept me off my feet. This was all part of his process, the extreme love bombing. The abuse started almost immediately. He accused me of cheating on him. He told me I was not to talk to my ex husband and co parent because that was me wanting to be with my ex and eventually the abuse became physical as well. I soon found out Name 2was hiring prostitutes, doing cocaine and drinking alcohol most every day. The control started small, little accusations, expectations of read notifications on texts and location sharing, things I didn’t mind because I never had anything to hide. He used them to his advantage so I wouldn’t catch him and what he was doing and I was so swept into the image he wanted me to see and believe, that I missed the signs of abuse. It wasn’t till a year and a half into the relationship that I found out his control was a way to keep me in the dark about his own life, yet I forgave him and gave him another chance with the declarations of love and apologies. But then the abuse became worse, he tracked how much shaving cream I would use; he yelled and screamed at me and verbally abused me; he frequently pushed me and even pushed me down the stairs onto the basement concrete; he locked me out of the house with nothing and nowhere to go, etc. I moved in with him because it seemed the only way I would know if he was being faithful. Obviously I was wrong because that man has never been faithful one day in his life to anyone. He became so over bearing and he accused me of all kinds of things. I was fired from a previous employer for recording my meetings because I did not know how else to prove to him I was not cheating on him. Name 2told me his issues began early on with abuse from his birth mother and watching her do drugs and selling her body (his sister was raped so I am assuming he was as well), to then moving in with his father and watching him physically, mentally and emotionally abuse his step mother, himself and his brother and alcohol. Name 2began drinking at the mere age of 8, smoking shortly thereafter, the cocaine use began around age 20 and the use of prostitutes to the best of my knowledge started around age 36. He told me he drove his father home drunk before he was even old enough to have a permit. He can drink over 36 beers and still drive his car straight, he drinks everyday., I was a witness to it. His relationship with his family is toxic and strained- he holds his children as bait over his parents to make them do what he wants or they cannot see them. He threatens to hit his dad. Once when I was with him at his parents home in Location he drove over their fence, destroying it. On the ride home that night he told me that one of the two of us was going to die. There is honestly nothing good to say about Name 2 he evades taxes, doesn’t pay for his possessions and has had 2/3 of his vehicle repossessed in the last 5 months, abuses his family, friends, girlfriends and children, he steals, lies and cheats and is a drain on everyone he meets and society itself. Though, this is about my Order for Protection and the violations and why I am terrified of Name 2 and why I never want him to see me or my children ever again. When I became pregnant, with a pregnancy we planned together might I add, his violence, drinking and abuse multiplied ten fold. As you can see in my order for protection he attempted to kill my then unborn son multiple times each time stating he didn’t care if the baby lived or died. He pushed me, strangled me, hit me in the face with a phone and knocked me unconscious, he would call me terrible awful names, hit me and take my phone to prevent me from calling the police for help. It is a miracle that my baby and I are even alive to tell this tale and ask for Name 2to finally see consequences for his actions. Though Name 3 lived, he did not come out unscathed from the abuse he endured while in utero, Name 3 has kidney issues due to Name 2'scocaine use (as cocaine attaches itself to semen and causes birth defects) and the mental, emotional and physical abuse I endured while pregnant with him. It is still unknown if his kidney will heal or if he will need surgery. I filed my order for protection because Name 2had me lie through my teeth with promises of change and love and how he would go to treatment and be the man I deserved for our family in order to get the Danco dropped that the state filed when I called the police on him on Date 2 I also wanted to ensure that my order for protection included Jaxton. As Name 2tried to kill him many times while I was pregnant with him and though the Danco was altered to allow him at the birth he couldn’t stay sober or straight long enough to be there for me and the baby when he was “needed”. After Name 3 was born he called his ears funny looking, asked why he had a birth mark on his face- said he’ll never get laid with that, punched himself in the head to show dominance over me while holding him and when I told him to give Name 3 back to me he pushed me backwards into a patio door. Neither one of us was safe anywhere near him and I thank you for granting our Order for Protection. Now I ask that you punish him for violating it. I am not the first woman he has abused, stolen from, cheated on and ruined emotionally and mentally and I will not be the last. I live my life everyday in fear of him, I see black Tahoes and have panic attacks and attend therapy weekly. This “man” should be charged with attempted murder and actually face the ramifications for his actions. He has 2 older children that are hurting so incredibly bad and are angry and scared of him and do not know how to react or behave with what they are dealing with and now he his living with a new woman already and she has a riddled past with drug convictions and has a 3 year old living with them. He gets more and more violent with every relationship, in mine he attempted to kill my unborn child, what will he do in this one? Actually kill her? And if you follow the pattern that he has experienced in all his years abusing women he will only feel more invincible to do whatever he wants. I filed my order for protection for peace of mind and though you the prosecutor could go after him for MULTIPLE violations they are only seeking one. I am pleading with you to see the evidence that he knowingly violated not once, but multiple times! Even asking in a different violation for me not to call the police. This “man” has never seen consequences for his actions and thus had not changed a thing. This is also not the first OFP for Domestic Violence against Name 2 I ask that you give him with the utmost charge of jail time. There he needs to seek therapy, anger management and rehabilitation for all his addictions. I also ask that he be charged with all of these violations to do so and that if you do place a new DANCO that it include my son Name 3to protect us both. I was strangled multiple times in this relationship and kept from calling the police or for help. Strangulation is a felony conviction all on it’s own and preventing me for calling for help is a misdemeanor that can carry up to one year in jail. I have a recording of him taking my phone and not allowing me to call for help and also admitting to hitting me. This “man” needs to face real repercussions and consequences for his actions and all of his victims deserve peace of mind and a good nights sleep knowing he’s where he belongs- in jail. Help me keep not only myself safe but my child as well. Thank you.

I was sexually assaulted physically and verbally by several of my older sisters boyfriends. She never stood up for me or objected to their comments. Why? I feel so scarred because of this and often cover up parts of my body in public with an intense fear of being verbally assaulted again by men.

I was sexually assaulted by a soldier that was a coworker while I was at work by myself. I did not want to report because of the abuse I’d been (still am) experiencing from my supervisor. Eventually it was reported correctly but it brought on more abuse at work. My story is not over. I have PTSD now. I pray one day the continued abuse will stop and I’ll be able to work safely.

I hate the word "victim"; "I was a victim of sexual abuse." I always found it hard to put myself in such a category. I felt like if I were to say, "I'm a victim", people would pity me; I pitted myself. The sexual abuse started when I was 7-years-old and stopped when I was 13-years-old. It took place in two homes where I thought it was safe, and it was done by two people who were supposed to love and protect me but instead caused me pain. Those two people whose only job was to love and protect me were my grandfather and my dad, and those two homes that were supposed to keep me safe were my home and a home I visited every weekend. My parents were separated, and I went to see my dad on certain days of the week, and most weekends, I went to stay with my grandparents; and that's when the abuse occurred. Still to this day, I clearly remember the abuse as if it happened yesterday... "Count to one hundred, 1... 2... 3... 4...", "and again...", "you will get through this," "he's almost done" those were the phrases I repeated in my head while I was getting abused. Sometimes I closed my eyes super tight and hoped that when I opened them, I would be back at home with my mom and my loving stepfather, but it wasn't the case; when I opened them, he was there, on top of me. The sound of his breathing that left me permanently haunted, the left side of the bed that still to this day will refuse to sleep on, and his voice, his words "shhh... you don't want to wake up anybody," and "you can't tell anybody about this, because if you do, there will be consequences." And when the following day came, he would act clueless as if he didn't put his hands down my pants and told me to shut up because you knew you shouldn't be doing that to me. But the thing is, at the age of 7, you believe that the people who are supposed to love you would do nothing to hurt you; at least that's what I thought; thus, I assumed the abuse was "normal," so I smiled and said, "good morning dad." That's what the abuse with my dad was like, but as for my grandfather, it was completely different. It wasn't during the night when everyone was sleeping; it was daylight when my grandmother was just in the other room. I would be on the couch with him, and he would start to massage my feet and progressively go higher and higher up while my grandmother was in the kitchen. I would often go to my grandparents almost every weekend, and so when it came to the court processing, I was accused of "wanting it." Yes, because a 7 to 13-year-old would want to get touched by her grandfather, but never thought that I don't know, maybe I wanted to see my grandmother, someone I could call my mom, someone who was like a second mom to me. The abuse got worst over the years, so bad that I would always ask my cousin to stay over with me because I thought that maybe he wouldn't touch me if she were there. But I was wrong because he still managed. He knew how close I was with my grandmother, and he used that to his advantage. Every time, he would say, "if you ever tell anyone about this, I will make sure that you will never see grandma ever again," so seven-year-old me, who was scared and confused, kept her mouth shut. To this day, his voice and words are imprinted in my brain, and the nasty comments that will forever scar me "oh, someone needs to start shaving down there" and "you like that uh?" I think it was when I was 10-years-old when I started thinking that it wasn't normal for my dad and grandfather o to touch me. When I was in elementary school, my friends would talk about how much they love their dads and the fun things they did with their grandparents, like colouring, playing board games, etc.; I was kinda there and thought to myself, "so you don't get your private parts touched by your dad or grandfather?" Because for me, yes, I played board games with my grandfather, scrabble to be precisely the instead of funny words or words that would make sense to me, he would put down "sex," "porn," and "sexy." What made the abuse with my grandfather different from my dad's abuse was that I had such an amazing relationship with my dad. He would train with me before my soccer games; he never missed a game; hockey was our sport we liked watching together; on Fridays were game night, and when he worked in the shed, he would show me what tool does what, and let me help him organize his tools. But when it came to bedtime and when he had downed a few beers, that relationship had suddenly disappeared. When I was around 12, I stopped seeing my dad and grandpa. I was 13 when my mom took me out of school in the middle of the day and brought me home. The car ride was silent, and she wasn't telling me what was going on. When we got home, she asks "did your dad touch you sexually?" I stared at her, and for a second, I thought, "maybe I can finally tell her what happened," but instead, "no, why" came out my mouth. And that was it; no questions were asked. *A couple of weeks later* I'm pulled from school once again by my mom and was brought home. Now I remember this day like it happened yesterday. I was sitting on my bedroom floor, and my mom was sitting on my bed with the door closed. She looked at me for a couple of seconds before saying anything. And then proceeded to ask, "tell me the truth, did your dad do anything to you?" Instant tears streamed down my face, and not a single word came out of my mouth. My mom looked at me, confused and worried, and that's when I said, "and grandpa." After those two words, she left my room and told my stepdad. The next thing I know, I'm standing in a police station. It was like everything happened so fast I didn't have time to process it. Many police interviews were taken and, by the end of each interview, my dad and grandfather were arrested. It's the next day when I found out my dad had also been abusing my step-sister. She told her mom about the abuse, and that's why my mom asked if my dad did anything to me. I was 14-years-old when I was standing in a courtroom. It was the day of my dad's trial. He had told the cops that he didn't do anything, so I had to go through a trial. Being 14 and questioned by a grown adult defending my dad was one of the worst things I had gone through. He was trying to make me look like I was lying, as if my dad had never touched me and that I made the whole story up. It was hard to sit across from my dad, trying not to look at him, wondering if he hates me. Once the "trial part" was done, it was time for my dad's sentencing for the abuse he did to my sister and me. He was found guilty for the abuse done to my sister but not guilty due to a lack of evidence for the abuse done to me, and he was sentenced to 12 months in prison. And that was it; it was over. My dad walked out, and that's the last time I ever saw him. I was still 14 when I was standing in the courtroom for the second time. It was the day that I had to read my impact statement to the court and my grandfather's sentencing. I saw my grandpa, who was with my grandma... I was so happy to see her; I felt like if she were here supporting me, I would be ok. But she walked past me as if I wasn't there. In the courtroom, I sat on the right side with the detective on my case. And on the left side sat my grandfather. Behind me in the audience booth were my family, who was there to support me. But I didn't see my grandma; she was sitting behind my grandpa, with the family who believed he was innocent even when he plead guilty. I read my witness impact statement, and he was sentenced to 12 months in prison. After the court session, he walked out as nothing holding hands with my grandma. Not once did spoke to me; she didn't even look at me once. That's what caused me the most pain through this whole experience. My emotions were everywhere, nothing but sadness. Now, I'm 20-years-old and writing my story. Both of my abusers are out of prison, living their own life. They never contacted me, nor did my grandma; I still her. Over the years, I learned to live with what happened to me. From the day it was over to when I was 18, my story was kept in a box. I was to not speak of it; it was pushed aside. My mom and stepdad were supportive, and I saw a therapist, but the minute I would bring up the past, my mom would shut me down. That's when the guilt settled in. I felt ashamed of what happened and guilty for talking about it. Then I started college. I told myself that I wasn't going to keep my story in a box any longer. No one should control what I decide to do with what happened to me, whether it's to tell people or not. That's when I became open with my past. I've told my story to friends, my boyfriend, even some of my college professors. I don't and will never again hide my story. It happened, I dealt with it, now I'm moving past it. It will never define me, but it sure made me into the person I am today. If I never got abused, I wouldn't be the person I am today, and I sure wouldn't be in the field of study that I am today. I learned to accept that I was a victim of sexual abuse. In my heart, I learnt to forgive my dad and my grandfather. I still miss my dad; the relationship we had because, despite the abuse, he was a good dad to me. I was a victim of sexual abuse, but now I am a survivor and forever will be one. When I tell my story to people, I don't refer to myself as a victim but rather as a survivor because I survived what happened to me. Through the abuse, the court processing, the mental illnesses I developed shortly after, and accepting what happened to me, I can call myself a survivor. I decided not to refer to my past as something nasty and horrible but instead as something that helped me see the world differently. To everyone who read this and who experienced something similar, you are a survivor and never ever let what happened to you get the best of you.